


Borderlands Porn (Various)

by Exorin



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Gunplay, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Reader-Insert, Sex Toys, Strangulation, Various Others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exorin/pseuds/Exorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All my Borderlands/Tales From the Borderlands/Borderlands-related writings<br/>Some dub/non-con (will be in the title)<br/>No plot, all porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One Where Glitch Jack Wakes Rhys Up

Rhys wakes up to the feel of static on his skin, stroking down his arms, in patches on his hips, a fleeting buzzing tightness around his neck, his whole body tingling, ‘W-what?’ He groans, rolling onto his back, twisting into the sheets- his eyes barely open.

’Wakey wakey princess,’ and there’s that voice in his head again, too-loud, fragmented, and pulling him out of sleep as the static on his hips shifts down to his thighs, dragging along his skin, hovering over his already morning-hard cock- the pressure barely there but still, he can’t help lifting his hips towards the buzz, and there’s low laughter in his ears, ‘ah, so you /can/ feel me.’

He makes a weak sound, his fingers curling into the sheets, ‘Go away.’ he sighs halfheartedly, rolling his hips forward, his cock hardening further against his stomach- head getting flushed and wet.

'You know you don't want that.' says the voice, quieter, buzzing right against his ear- the static pressure continuing to build around him, hovering heavily over Rhys' entire body, 'You want to open your eyes.'

Jack is so close, blue and bright, shape breaking apart and reforming constantly- his hand braced beside Rhys’ head and his other moving slow and steady along the length of Rhys’ cock, ‘N-n-no way,’ he stutters, wide awake now and pushing himself back, away from the pressure, ‘this isn’t a thing that’s happening.’

'Keep telling yourself that kid.' Jack laughs, his body glitching out and reappearing over Rhys again- the heavy buzz returning, static shocks lighting up along his skin and making him tremble and gasp, his cock twitching against his stomach, already so close, 'And maybe hold on to something.'

Jack leaves a static trail along the line of Rhys’ jaw, sliding his lips up to the port on Rhys’ temple, the pressure and energy building underneath of Jack’s mouth until Rhys can see the electricity sparking out of the corner of his eye, ‘What, ah, what are you doi—’

His entire body arches, back curved, ECHO eye lighting up- Jack’s mouth covering his port, tongue pushing firmly into the hole.

And the pressure builds to a peak, lights flickering with Rhys close to screaming, his cock jerking against his stomach, come spilling thick and warm and wet along his skin just before he passes out.


	2. The One Where Rhys Trades A Blowjob For A Promotion From Vasquez

'And I want you to know,' Vasquez starts, standing up to walk around the desk between them- siting on the edge of it in front of Rhys, 'the promotion that you worked so hard to get, that's still coming to you.'

'Well that's a relief 'cause I—'

'If you /really/ want it, that is.' he says, cutting Rhys off and dropping his hand down to stroke the obvious bulge of his cock through his pants, 'You want it, don't you?'

’You’re kidding right?’

Vasquez smiles and reaches forward to grab a handful of Rhys’ hair, pulling his head closer, ‘I’m really not,’ and Rhys can feel the fingers tightening- Vasquez’s free hand easily working his pants open, ‘you want that promotion, don’t you Rhys?’

He can’t manage to get any words out, his fists clenched at his sides- Vasquez’s cock thick and hard and right in front of his face, tip already damp with precome and being pressed up against his lips.

'Impress me.'

Rhys swallows, his mouth going dry, parting his lips just enough to taste the head of Vasquez’s cock- the first salt-bitter taste making his throat clench and he doesn’t get a moment to adjust before Vasquez is pushing his hips forward, his cock shoving into the heat of Rhys’ mouth.

He starts gagging immediately, throat spasming, coughing around the taste and weight of Vasquez’s cock and struggling to breathe through his nose- Vasquez sinking his cock further into him, right down until Rhys’ nose is pressed up against his pelvic bone.

Rhys can’t manage to relax at all, Vasquez giving him no time- two hands in Rhys’ hair to hold him still, hips jerking up, cock inching deeper and deeper down Rhys’ aching throat and all Rhys can do is take it, his lips spread wide, stretched at the corners, his fingers digging into his thighs until he can feel the bruises forming.

And he’s glad it’s over quick, Vasquez groaning and fucking hard into the clenching heat of Rhys’ mouth, his come pouring thick and warm down Rhys’ throat and when Vasquez pulls free, cock wet with spit, Rhys can’t help coughing- come leaking from the corners of his mouth, spilling down his chin in thick white streaks, dripping onto the floor.

'Oh now Rhys, who's going to clean that up?' and Rhys can barely look up, watches Vasquez tucking his spent cock back into his pants instead, 'Perhaps the new Assistant Vice Janitor? Congratulations on the promotion by the way.'


	3. The One Where August Gets Off And Fiona Doesn't

'I don't like dishonest people, Fiona.' he says against her ear, breath hot, fist full of her hair and pulling her head back sharply- he's got her pinned to a wall, his body shoved up flush against her back, 'You've seen what happens when someone crosses me.'

'I'm sure we can work this out.'

’Oh are you?’ he laughs, stepping back just enough to force her to face him before fitting himself in the space between her legs- keeping her wedged up against the wall, ‘Because from where I’m standing, I’d say you don’t have a bargaining chip.’

'What do you want August.' she says and it's not a question- his body shifting just enough for her to feel the hard press of his cock against her inner thigh and she can't help the way her hips move to fit her better against him.

'What's owed,' his breath comes out a little shaky and she refuses to hide the small smile that tugs at the corner of her mouth, 'a hundred thousand dollars and a Vault Key would be nice,' and there's barely any breathing room between them that his words end up pressed against the corner of her lips, 'but let's start with this.'

The fist in her hair tightens just before he kisses her, full on, wet and aggressive- his tongue slipping between her lips, sliding against hers, pushing into the corners of her mouth and she doesn’t even try to stop the surprised noise in her throat.

Her fingers end up tangled into his shirt, one of his arms tight enough around her waist that she can hitch her legs up and lock them around his hips- her head aches from the way he’s still pulling her hair, forcing her to tilt back, his mouth moving to press against her throat, teeth dragging along her skin, leaving vivid red marks that travel down to her collarbone.

'This is, ah, unexpected.' she almost laughs, moaning instead when he drives his hips forward to push his still-covered cock against her and she rocks her body down, grinds up against the pressure of him, thick and hard, against her already wet cunt.

He doesn’t say anything, just bites down against the curve of her neck, breathing hard, his hips jerking, pants getting damp from the friction against his cock- and the motion stutters, quickens, stills, his teeth digging in hard enough to draw blood.

'Seriously?' she says, her legs trembling as he untangles their bodies, putting her down and pulling away- the front of his pants noticeably stained.

'Hey Fiona, I didn't owe /you/ anything, remember?'


	4. The One Where Tassiter Knows That Timothy Isn't John

He’s almost used to it- the cold metal floor of Tassiter’s office, Tassiter’s hands fisted in his hair, the ache in his knees, his thighs, his jaw and the taste of sweat and come on his lips, against his tongue, down his throat.

So when Tassiter hits him for the first time he can’t help the broken cry that breaks from his lips, barely has time to catch himself before hitting the floor and when he looks up at the CEO, blood in his mouth, Tassiter’s smile is cruel, ‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice, Timothy?’

’Do you /really/ think you’re a passable John?’ Tassiter says, laughs, and Timothy flinches visibly when he reaches forward to grab the double by the front of his shirt, pulling him back up to his knees, ‘You’re barely a passable human being. Look at you,’ and Tassiter leans close enough that Timothy can feel the warmth of his breath, ‘you’re already scared enough to do anything I ask. Pathetic.’

The second hit hurts worse than the first, his lower lip bleeding, cheek already bruising and Tassiter is still holding him by his shirt, keeping him kneeling for the third impact, the fourth, ‘Do you think he cares how I send you back to him?’

Timothy almost sobs, swallows it down along with the copper taste in his mouth just before Tassiter shoves him fully to the floor, his head hitting the metal hard enough to rattle his teeth- and Tassiter kneels down on top of him, his knees pressed down against Timothy’s arms, pinning him still, ‘I guarantee you he doesn’t.’ he says, one hand just resting on Timothy’s throat, the other unclasping his belt and working his pants open.

'Now,' Tassiter's fingers tighten very briefly around Timothy's neck, pulling his cock out with his other hand- hard and thin and long, tip wet and pressed close to his lips, 'what do you have to say?'

'S-s-sorry, sir.'

'Ask.' Tassiter says, his voice steady and cold- he leans over him, dragging his cock along Timothy's mouth, getting the doubles lips shiny and wet with precome, 'Beg me for it.'

'Please, p-p-please, sir.'

Tassiter groans, the hand on Timothy’s neck squeezing, palm pressing down harder against his windpipe until his mouth falls open in a gasp- and Tassiter shoves forward immediately, sliding the full length of his cock down TImothy’s throat, right to the base, his balls resting heavily on the doubles chin.

Timothy gags, swallows then gags again, his eyes shut and damp at the corners.

'Good,' Tassiter says, fucking into Timothy's mouth, his hips jerking too fast for Timothy to adjust, two hands on his throat now and already bruising his skin, 'I hope you choke on it.'

Timothy clenches his hands into fists, tight enough that his nails dig crescent imprints into his palms, his body trembling as he struggles to breathe through his nose- getting lightheaded with every thrust of Tassiter’s cock into his mouth, the edge of his vision tinting black.

And Tassiter stiffens, drives forward once more, his cock shoved so deep into Timothy’s mouth that the double barely has to swallow the thick, warm taste of his come shooting down his throat- and when Tassiter pulls himself free, standing up slowly, Timothy gasps and coughs, head throbbing, come leaking out from between his lips.

'Get out of my office.' Tassiter spits and forces Timothy onto his knees with a kick to his ribs, turning away from the double and not even glancing back to add, 'And tell John I said hello.'


	5. The One Where Vaughn Takes On A Roomfull Of Hyperion Employees And Likes It

'How much more you think you can take, little guy?'

Someone laughs, but Vaughn’s too busy examining the floor to really catch which one of the five Hyperion higher-ups is the one doing it.

He’s down on all fours with his knees spread as far apart as he can manage, his bare skin already sticky and slick, face flushed, his knees bruising from being on the cold storage room floor for this long, his mouth red and wet and swollen.

He’s already been finger-stretched and come-soaked when someone takes hold of his hips from behind- fingertips digging in and lining up with bruises that are already spotting his skin, the thick shove of cock shoving into his hole with zero resistance, just one long, easy slide.

Vaughn bites down on his lower lip to keep from moaning, they’ve already mocked him enough for the sounds he’s been making as they take their turns with him.

A hand curls around his jaw and tilts his face up, but not high enough for him to see who’s hand it is- there are fingertips pressing into his cheeks hard enough to force his mouth open wide enough to fit the cock of the man in front of him.

He can’t help the groan that slips free from his throat, muffled and wet sounding- the wide shove of cock sinking down his throat so far that it makes him gag and cough around the length of it.

'You're doing so well.’ Someone says from the doorway, another unfamiliar voice in a room full of strangers, ‘Give him more.’

And there’s fingers pushed into his ass along with the already thick shove of cock- two of them stretching him out wider.

His eyes feel wet at the corners, squeezed tightly shut as a third finger is added and he doesn’t even know if they’re from the same person just knows that he’s being pulled apart by too many hands and too much fucking into him.

There’s a jerk of hips in front of him, a stuttering shove of the cock already down his throat before the salt-bitter taste of come floods his mouth, thick and warm on his tongue- too much to swallow down all at once, leaving spit and come leaking out from the corners of his lips.

He can hear the rustling of someone new undoing their pants behind him, the three added fingers slipping out from his soaking hole only to be replaced by the blunt nudge of another cock lining up alongside the first one.

And Vaughn can’t keep himself up, his forehead pressed down against the floor, sliding down to rest on his elbows, his arms stretched out, ass up in the air.

There are hands on his ass cheeks, pulling them apart to let the second person push in further- two cocks fitting into the wide stretch of his hole and he’s drooling on the cold tile, gasping against it, his fingers dragging along the floor to catch hold of anything for purchase.

He can’t stop the sound of his own voice from breaking, moaning loudly when the two men behind him find a rhythm- a slow, push-pull-fuck that makes his entire body tremble and he feels like he’s coming apart at the seams his breath hitching alongside theirs, his gasps and moans echoing around him and he can’t stop himself from whining- nothing but a string of oh, and yes, and please, and and and Rhys.


	6. The One Where Sasha Needs More From Rhys

His hips jerk forward, fucking his cock into her, thick and hard and shoved deep- she’s got her hands in his hair, on his back, her fingertips scratching down his spine.

Both of them sweat damp and gasping, her thighs trembling, cunt wet, hot, tight around him and she’s so, so close to coming when he thrusts forward and groans, ‘Fuck, ah, Sash.’ against the curve of her neck.

She drops her head back against the pillow and sighs, stroking her hands up and down his back for a moment, ‘Hey, Hyperion boy,’ she says, shifts enough to breathe the words against his ear, her body arching underneath his, her legs still hitched up over his hips, ‘you wanna show me what that arm can do?’

'Oh god… you didn't get off,' he starts, lifting himself up enough to look down at her, his spent cock slipping from her body, 'I'm so sorry, of course, yeah, what do you need.'

She laughs softly and kisses the corner of his mouth, her hand moving to stroke down his mechanized arm, ‘Your fingers… /these/ fingers specifically,’ she says, her green eyes darkening, fingertips tracing along the electronic joints all the way down to his hand, ‘inside of me right now.’

And he groans, looking down at her while he sits up and leans back, kneeling between her already spread legs and biting down on his lower lip, ‘You’re going to be the ruin of me.’

'Thats the pl—' and he doesn't let her finish, making her moan instead- two of his cool metal fingers pushing easily into the wet heat of her cunt.

'You want to see what I can do, huh Sash?' he says, bending his fingers just a little and twisting them into her, making her hips buck down and her back arch- fingers fisting into the sheets.

'Yeah,' she groans, watching him, her pupils blown black, 'yeah comeon Rhys, show me what you've got.'

And his ECHO eye lights up as he slips another finger into her, knotting the three of them together, his hand stilling so completely that it makes her squirm for him to keep going.

It starts as a low hum, a dull, warm, throbbing inside of her, building and building until his fingers are vibrating, fast and steady, ‘Oh fuck.’ she gasps, pulling at the sheets, her feet dragging along the bed trying to find purchase, her hips lifted and his free hand on her back to balance her.

'Rhys, ah, damni—' and he cuts her off again, twisting deeper into her briefly before pulling almost all the way out- the tips of his fingers barely inside of her soaked cunt, pulsing against the folds of her.

He leans forward, smiling and stilling his hand, ‘How m’I doing?’

She makes a noise in her throat, a cracked and broken moan, glaring at him while still trying to shove her hips down to take more of his fingers into her, to take him deeper and he laughs softly, fondly, before pushing all three of fingers back into her in one quick movement.

She arches and gasps, her thighs shaking and cunt tightening around his thrusting fingers, so incredibly wet and coming hard enough to soak his fingers, his palm, the sheets beneath her.

He leaves his hand there and let’s her grind out the rest of her orgasm against his fingers, dulling the vibrations back to a low hum- watching her with her eyes closed, her face and chest flushed, ‘You’re goddamn gorgeous Sasha.’

And she cracks an eye open, trying to frown but only managing to pull off a smaller smile, ‘Shut up nerd.’


	7. The One Made Up Of A Bunch Of Little Ones (Handsome Jack/Reader)

**Jack/Reader, vague blowjobs**  
He’s got a fist full of your hair, forcing your head back until you’re looking up at him- your knees hurt from being in this position for so long, lips swollen, jaw aching, ‘Say it again, kitten.’ he groans, using his free hand to drag the leaking head of his hard, thick cock along your parted lips.

'Jack,' you say as he trembles, your breath warm against the tip of his cock, 'you're the most powerful man I've ever met.'

And you can feel his fingers clench in your hair, his exhale unsteady, shaky, shaped into 'yes, i fucking am' and he’s barely back into the heat of your mouth before he comes- hot and thick and spilling along your tongue, dripping out from the corners of your lips, wet and sticky on your chin.

**Jack/Reader, gunplay**  
The muzzle of the gun is pressed sharply against your temple and he’s smiling, his thumb pressing down against the hammer just enough for you to hear it slowly clicking into place- his finger curled loosely around the trigger, ‘on your knees, kiddo.’ he says and there’s no trace of humour in his tone.

He’s opening his pants with his free hand, unclasping his belt, thumbing down his fly, ‘you’ll do what you’re told, won’t you?’ and it’s not a question- not with the way he slides the barrel of the gun down along your jaw and nudges your lips apart with the muzzle.

He drags the gun away from your lips, presses it into your cheek instead while he pulls his cock free from his pants- hard and thick and already leaking wet at the tip, ‘you know what i want.’

He’s heavy on your tongue, wide enough to make your lips feel stretched at the corners and you take his cock into your mouth as far as you can- breathing through your nose and trying to ignore the way the gun against your cheek digs into your skin.

'Yeah baby, come on' he groans and fists his free hand into your hair, holding your head still, fucking into your mouth- the muzzle of the gun still pressed against you, and god, he's so hard, his cock throbbing against your tongue, so wet that your spit and his precome leak from the edges of your mouth.

And when he comes it’s with a sudden and loud click that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes you swallow hard and whimper around the weight of his cock and the warm, thick slide of his come down your throat.

'Oh, i'm not done with you yet.' he laughs and forces your head back so that you're staring up at him from your knees.

**Jack/Reader, strangulation**  
He’s shoved all of the way into the wet heat of your cunt, your legs spread wide with your knees on either side of his hips and he’s holding you there, doing the work himself, fucking into you steady and so, so slow.

And you can barely breathe with both of his hands around your throat like this- his fingertips digging into your skin and his thumbs pressed firmly against your jugular, hard enough to mark you and tinting the edges of your vision black.

'Comeon kitten,' he says, moans, and pulls back until only his cockhead is pressed into you, leaving you balanced above him, thighs trembling, body shaking, ‘you can last longer than this.’ 

You want to, oh god, but you’re getting lightheaded and his face is blurring beneath you- his fingers squeezing around your neck tighter until you’re sure he’s thinking about how easy it’d be to dispose of you.

And just as you’re blacking out he jerks his hips up, buries himself fully into the heat of you and you can feel his cock throbbing, spilling hot and thick and leaving your cunt soaked with his come- his groaning just background noise to the blood rushing in your ears.

**Jack/Reader, strangulation**  
His watch chain is cold against your neck and he’s holding it down, pressing it against your windpipe until you can’t even gasp, can barely breathe- his hands are palm-flat against the desk on either side of your head, his mouth close to your ear when he groans, ‘You like that pumpkin?’

And you can’t say anything, hitching your legs up higher around his waist as an answer (yes, oh god yes) and focusing on the blood pounding in your head, the heat throbbing through your cunt as he shoves deeper into you- his cock thick and heavy and filling you up.

He jerks his hips forward then pulls back, teasing for a short moment before fucking into you again, hard, and you can feel yourself being pushed back along the desk with every thrust, ‘yeah, take it’ he pants against your cheek, groans into your ear.

He’s got his knee up on the edge of the desk, dropping the chain around your neck to grab hold of your waist instead, his fingers digging into your skin even as you try to remember how to breathe- he leans back to look down at you, his face flushed under the corners of his mask.

And the sudden rush of air leaves you dizzy, makes your hips jerk up and your back arch and you must be gasping his name from the way he smiles and pulls you sharply against him until his cock is completely buried in your cunt, ‘oh jesus.' he exhales the words just before he pulls back- coming thick and warm and wet along the insides of your thighs.

**Jack/Reader, mouth fucking**  
Your hair is in his fist and he’s pulling your head back hard enough that your neck is aching from it, your lips swollen, struggling to breathe through your nose from where it’s crushed up against his pelvic bone.

He’s got his cock shoved into you, hard and heavy and wide, pushed back past your gag reflex and hitting the back of your throat- his cock-head wet and leaking pre-come, mixed with the spit that’s dripping out from the corners of your mouth.

He’s groaning, jerking his hips forward until there’s nothing you can do but swallow around the size of him, your tongue trapped, pressed up against the underside of his cock.

He loosens a hand from your hair and reaches down to wrap his fingers around your neck, his palm stroking along your skin, ‘Yeah come on kitten, all the way in’ he says, low, half growled- and your moan is lost to the way his cock sinks further down your throat.

And when he drags himself away from you, his cock soaked with spit and slipping out from between your bruising lips, you have to gasp, your chest heaving, your lungs filling up with air so suddenly that it makes you dizzy.

He barely gives you time to breathe before the fist in your hair is forcing your head forward- his cock red and hard and dripping wet, shoved straight to the back of your throat in one quick thrust.

And your throat is aching, his hips bucking in quick, jerking movements, his fingers digging into your scalp, holding you still and he’s groaning, grinding his cock into your throat, fucking your mouth hard and fast- you can feel his pulse in the throb of his cock against your tongue, can see the way he stiffens completely, can taste him in the thick, warm come that fills up your throat.

He’s hunched over you, his laughter shaky and half gasped, his cock still twitching in the heat of your mouth when he says, ‘We’re not done here, pumpkin’


	8. The One Where Sasha Finds Sex Toys (In A Hyperion Warehouse) With Rhys

Rhys is just as surprised as Sasha is when his thumbprint /actually/ unlocks the door- they’d been pretty positive that Vaughn would have to get involved to get it open (but didn’t want to bring him on a hunch), but no, the large metal door with faded yellow writing hisses as it slides open, dust and stale air hitting them both in the face.

'After you.' Rhys says, bending slightly and ushering her in, she smiles and laughs, running ahead and leaving Rhys to walk behind her- he waits until she's almost bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement to actually hit the lights.

They come on one at a time, leading a path and lighting up boxes and boxes of unused Hyperion stock, ‘Oh my god Rhys, we just hit the jackpot,’ Sasha breathes out, her voice almost a whisper and when she turns to look at him she’s grinning so wide that it must hurt, ‘Fiona is gonna be so jealous!’

*

Rhys is just opening his twenty-second box, multiple guns and various other unused tech scattering the floor around him when Sasha shouts for him to come find her- she’s almost all the way at the back of the building when he gets to her standing beside a small and curved black machine that she’s taken off a shelf of about seven more identical ones.

'Rhys,' she says, dead serious, her hands on her hips and starring at him like he's been hiding something, 'you did not tell me that Hyperion made sex toys.'

'I… didn't think it was important?' he tries, looking around at the rest of the boxes in this last hallway, 'Besides Sasha, it's not why we—' and when he looks back at her, she's already crouching over the device, knees bent and straddling it, 'Seriously?'

'Oh come on,' she pouts at him but there's a smile still tugging at the corner of her mouth, her eyebrows raised suggestively- she picks up the controller that's attached to the device and holds it out for him to take, 'I'll let you press the buttons.'

He can’t stop the shaky breath that leaves his mouth, winces slightly at the way it almost turns into a groan and his hand is definitely not trembling when he reaches out to take hold of the small black controller.

'Let's see what you've got big boy.' she says and it takes Rhys a moment to realize that she's talking about the machine she's sitting on- her hand stroking down the side of it.

And Rhys flicks the button on without being told, reaching down with his free hand to adjust his already hard cock through his pants and biting back the noise he wants to make when she gasps and looks up at him with wide eyes- the buzzing of the machine quiet but still noticeable.

She rocks forward on it, her thighs trembling from the vibration- she’s biting down on her lower lip to keep herself from making noise and she doesn’t stop looking at Rhys, her eyes half-lidded and getting darker by the second.

'Feel good Sash?' he asks, crouching down in front of her and twisting one of the controls until she moans audibly, her hips bucking down against it, 'You think you can handle more?'

She catches him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward, ‘Fuck you.’ she laughs, almost gasping, pressing the words against his mouth before kissing him breathlessly.

He ends up with one hand wrapped up in her hair, her dreadlocks clenched into his fist- his other still holding the controller, switching the patterns of vibrations, turning down the speed, then up, then down, over and over to keep her moaning into his mouth, her whole body shaking.

'I'm not, ah, I'm not,' she starts, gasping the words against his lips, 'going to say, ah fuck, please.'

He laughs, low, kissing her while turning the vibrations up and dropping the controller beside him- his now free hand pressed down against the hard line of his cock, hips rolling forward against the pressure, palm getting damp even through his pants.

Her back arches, her arms wrapping themselves around Rhys and she presses her face against the curve of his neck- swearing, gasping, moaning, dragging her teeth along his skin, every part of her trembling.

He drops his hand from her hair to switch the machine off, holding her with one arm while stroking his cock with his other hand- she shifts in his arms, forehead resting on his shoulder, looking down, watching him jerk his hips up against his palm.

And she places her hand on top of his, her fingers sliding in between his, ‘Yeah, come on Rhys.’ she whispers, smiling when he groans loudly and fucks his hips up in quick, jerky thrusts- and she can feel the way he comes underneath of her fingertips.

*

When they finally stand up she has to lean on him, her legs still shaking, ‘So,’ she says, already laughing, still breathless, ‘it’s a good thing we didn’t bring Vaughn.’

'Oh I don't know,' Rhys starts, his arm tightening around her waist, 'he's pretty into watching.'

'Shut up.'


End file.
